


Domestic Warfare

by Spoon888



Series: Furnace [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bottom Megatron, Established Relationship, Improper Use of a Fusion Cannon, M/M, Post War AU, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 22:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Love is a new sort of battlefield. So is their berth.Two moments where Starscream wins.





	Domestic Warfare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stonetin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonetin/gifts).



> Not what she asked for, but here's another gift for Kiwiitin.

Domesticity should have been easier than their five million years at war. This was their retirement, their time for rest. It was just a shame Megatron didn't seem aware that they weren't at war anymore...

'They' being him and Megatron personally, rather than the Autobot and Decepticon factions as a whole.

They were bonded mates for Cybertron's sake.

Laid on his side in their berth, Starscream stared at Megatron across the sheets from him. The ex-warlord glared back.

"Roll over." He said, and not for the first time.

Megatron's optics darkened. "No."

"Why are you being so difficult?" He asked, "I want to hold you."

"I don't trust what you'll do when I show you my back," Megatron grumbled, despite that he had exposed far more vulnerable pieces of hardware to Starscream before and come out mostly unharmed.

"I want to hold you." He repeated slowly as if talking to an idiot. Which he suspected he was.

"A likely story." Megatron snorted.

"If I was going to kill you I wouldn't do it in the berth." Starscream snapped, starting to lose patience. "Think of the mess! I'm not recharging amongst your filthy remains."

His mate grumbled something noncommittal, broad shoulder shifting out from under the insulation covers as he made a movement that would have been a fidget had it been anyone but a former galactic-scale warlord. Hmm, It wasn't Starscream _hurting_ him that had him reluctant to expose his back to his own mate, and that was even more ridiculous, frankly.

Starscream rolled his optics and extended a servo between them, searching beneath the covers for Megatron's own. "Just come here."

He brushed against Megatron's digits, but the warm fingers withdrew skittishly. His berth mate was still frowning, mouth a hard thin line. "I know what you're after, seeker." The older mech growled, but didn't look so sure of himself.

Starscream smirked, shuffling across the berth, delighting in the way Megatron veered back from him. "You won't know unless you _come here_ now, will you?"

With his wandering servos he brushed a warm flat abdomen. He felt armour tighten together under his touch where Megatron was subconsciously cringing away, but he managed to hook a claw into one of the seams before they locked too tightly and used it to drag his mate just close enough.

His bigger mate's broad chest bumped his, but Starscream curved his back to push his hips forwards, groin flush to Megatron's. The older mech huffed, arching a brow, "So _this_ was what you were after?"

"No," Starscream nuzzled at his neck as he began palming at the warm metal between powerful silver thighs, "But if it'll get you to relax..."

He pushed at Megatron's hip, negotiating the larger mech onto his back, and then onto his other side, into the position Starscream had been wanting him all night - Megatron's broad back to his chest. With the promise of pleasure as a reward the ex-warlord was a more pliant, rolling over like an obedient pet as his spike began to un-sheathe and pressurise into Starscream's waiting servo.

He pressed up against Megatron's back, reaching around the broader mech to continue the slow but sure pump of his mate's hardening spike. He ran his fingers over the leaking tip, collecting the transfluid gathering there to slick the slide of his palm on erect metal.

Megatron went struttless against him, shoulders slumped, optics flickering, hips twitching into a particularly good squeeze of the seeker's servo on his spike. Completely at ease. Fool.

With one servo occupied, Starscream used his other to tease at the sensitive seams and sensors around the base of Megatron's spike. The older mech grunted, thighs shifting apart to let Starscream continue his ministrations. His own black servos were tightening in the berth covers as his core temperature began to rise.

Now clear of obstacles. Starscream let his fingers wander a little lower than Megatron's spike, slipping between parted thighs to press at the panel hiding his valve. In his aroused state, Megatron's frame let the interfacing cover snap away without protest. The older mech jumped, leg twitching, optics flicking online in surprise when he felt digits prodding at the rim of his valve.

Chin resting atop the older mech's shoulder, Starscream let Megatron feel his grin against his flushed cheek as he dipped into the warm, rarely felt territory between the old warlord's legs.

"You little sneak," Megatron breathed, but he was still hard as iron in Starscream's servo, spike dripping in arousal. His servos were pulling at the covers hard enough that Starscream could hear the fabric ripping. "Knew it-"

"Still let me do it," Starscream pointed out, coordinating his movements so he was rubbing his thumb across the tip of Megatron's spike at the same time he was pushing two digits past the rim of his mate's valve. The mesh was beautifully soft and wet. Starscream pressed an appreciative kiss to the side of Megatron's helm. "You're going to feel so good."

Megatron huffed, but his right leg lifted. A clear invitation.

Starscream released the pressure on his own spike by opening his codpiece, sighing in relief. As the array began to extend he rocked himself against Megatron's aft, letting him feel his arousal. Megatron shuddered, pushing his hips back against him -rather eager for someone so apparently reluctant.

Starscream abandoned Megatron's spike to grasp his thigh instead, lifting it higher and pushing the warlord further into his front for better access. The tip of his spike nosed against valve lips, wet and invitingly warm. He guided himself forwards, letting the head slip inside the older mech. He could feel the walls flex and ripple around him as they stretched to accommodate the intrusion.

Like with most things, Megatron wasn't quick to adjust. He grunted in exertion, the gears in his thighs twitching. Starscream massaged the armour he held soothingly and rocked into his partner gently, praising Megatron with little kisses to the side of his helm.

"Stop that," Megatron hissed, turning his helm away. He released the berth covers to take himself in hand, fisting his neglected spike furiously. "Move."

Starscream smirked, drawing back and bucking forward hard enough to make his mate's back stiffen. He continued before Megatron could recover. Their position made the penetration shallow, but he made up for that with speed, jolting Megatron with every driving thrust.

Before long the older mech had had enough. He rolled onto his front, shifting his weight onto his knees. Starscream had to scramble to stay with him, hissing in irritation as he knelt behind the larger mech, having to knee Megatron's thighs further apart and yank his aft back in order to get back in him. He could fit deeper now, and the sensation of being hilt deep inside a willing, pliant Megatron almost made him overload right then and there.

Megatron's grunting was muffled in a pillow now, which Starscream suspected was the real reason behind the change in position. The older mech was getting loud, the callipers of his valve clenching down desperately and the servo on his spike little more than a black blur. Starscream reached around and swirled his fingers over Megatron's swollen anterior node, pinching it between his digits.

Megatron bucked forwards, a deep animalistic noise emitted from the pillow just as his spike shot a stripe of transfluid across the berth beneath him. Starscream purred in satisfaction, rubbing Megatron's abdomen before increasing his pace to chase his own overload.

Megatron turned out of the pillow, optics hazy and cheeks flushed in such an undone, un-Megatronly manner that Starscream's chest filled with pride. He groaned, just as Megatron began grinding back, encouraging him on.

It was too much. Megatron's valve clenched down at just the right moment in just the right way and Starscream was overloading, digits pressing into the armour of the warlord's hips hard enough to leave dents. He bucked twice, then held deep, letting his spike pulse and empty into Megatron's waiting internals. Megatron watched him over his shoulder, exhausted, but satisfied.

When it was all over Starscream fell sideways across the berth, limbs dead weights. He felt the thump of Megtaron hitting the berth in a similarly undignified manner somewhere next to him, but couldn't turn his helm to look.

"See?" He breathed, throwing one of his numb arms out to find some part of his mate. "Nothing to worry about."

There was a long pause before Megatron answered in a deep, hoarse voice, "...I'm far too old for that."

A laugh burst out of Starscream's mouth. That was untrue, but he didn't want to give Megatron any defence against his ageist teasing.

"Go to recharge you old fool."

 

* * *

 

  
Megatron was an early riser. Starscream tried to remember if that had been true during the war, or if this was a new trait he'd developed simply to irritate his berthmate. Of course, he hadn't shared a living space -or a berth- with Megatron during those dreary years, so it was difficult to verify.

He was sure though, _sure_ that most of it was being done of purpose.

"If you came to recharge at a reasonable hour you wouldn't be in this position," Megatron's voice drifted over from _somewhere_ in their berth room. Starscream couldn't tell where because his helm was hidden beneath the covers, shielding his delicate optics from the morning light steaming in through the balcony archways Megatron had so cruelly drawn the curtains from.

He made a gap in the insulation covers just wide enough so he could be heard complaining, "Not everyone turns in at sundown, you pensioner."

He heard Megatron huff. There was a tug on the sheets and Starscream groaned as they were drawn away. He winced up at Megatron's face, repressing the urge to slap his mate's condescending face away.

Megatron bent to give him a rough kiss -the sort that implied if he had more time it wouldn't have been _just_ a kiss. Starscream arched up to chase after his lips when they withdrew, but Megatron shook his helm. "I'll be back in a few hours..."

"And that's another thing!" Starscream snapped, sitting upright and throwing the covers aside with considerable attitude. "What kind of lunatic gets up at the crack of dawn and goes to the shooting range?! An intergalactic emergency, I can understand..."

"The sort of lunatic that was stupid enough to bond to you." Megatron bit back. "And what choice do I have, when shooting at random citizens in the street is frowned upon in peace time?"

Starscream huffed, dropping back against the berth. "You'd really rather shoot at metal cutouts all morning before your council meeting than stay in berth with me?"

Megatron was latching his fusion cannon into place on his arm. He lifted it, letting it charge to check it's functionality. It began to hum threateningly. Starscream shivered at the sound, and the thought of the power currently running through it.

"I haven't the same lazy disposition as you," the older mech murmured, distracted by his favourite weapon. "So no, I don't feel the desire to waste the morning dozing in a berth."

Starscream snorted, pushing the covers further down himself to reveal the rest of his frame, twisting himself invitingly. "Who said anything about dozing?"

Megatron looked up, optics brightening as he took in the sight of his mate. Starscream could see the gears turning behind them as the older mech began to comprehend that he was being propositioned. He could be so dimwitted sometimes.

Eventually, a smirk slowly spread across Megatron's face. His stance became cocky, and it was rather endearing as he slowly sauntered back towards the berth. "Well, I suppose the shooting range can wait..."

He reached to unlatch his cannon.

"Wait," Stasrcream stopped him, looking at the weapon and feeling his entire frame warm at the thought of it on Megatron's arm, _humming_. "Leave it on."

The expression on his mate's face could only be described as perplexed. "What?"

"The cannon." Starscream licked his lips, "Leave it on."

Megatron's face didn't break out in a saucy grin like he had expected. The older mech's face darkened. He cradled his weapon up against his chest, shielding it from his mate's lecherous gaze. "What are you planning on _doing_ with it?"

"Well I'm not going to rip it off your arm and shoot you with it, am I?" Starscream snapped, irritable now. "Just leave it on-"

"You want to _defile_ it." Megatron growled accusingly.

Dear Primus, Starscream's stared at the older mech. Was Megatron really so hung up in the virtue of his precious fusion cannon?

" _I_ made that thing." Starscream pointed at the weapon in question, "I designed it. I built it, and I gave it to _you_. So when I say I want you to keep it on and vibrate it against my wings after you've gone and shoved your spike up my aft you better damn well do it!"

Megatron looked appalled. He shook the cannon at him with vigour. Starscream flinched away, worried it might go off and blast a hole in his apartment. "This is a weapon of war!" Megatron barked, "Not one of your vibrators!"

His mate was a blockhead. Starscream flopped back against the berth, throwing out an arm in defeat. "Fine. Go."

"What?" Megatron paused, surprised he had won the argument.

"I said 'fine'." He hissed, reaching for the covers and throwing them over himself again. "You win. Have fun shooting at targets with Ironhide or whatever you had planned."

Megatron stared at him, "You don't want to-?"

"I'm not in the mood." Starscream sneered at him, rolling onto his front and shoving his face in a pillow, wondering why he had to have bonded to such an old prude.

He was drawn from his resentful lamentations by a low humming noise, and then a waft of heat against his back. He lifted his helm, jumping in shock when he was met with the business end of a fully charged fusion cannon, glowing end expelling heat enough to melt plastic. He shuddered.

Behind the cannon, Megatron was peering down at him, brow drawn with concern. "Roll over then."

Unable to contain his grin, Starscream kicked the covers away and laid back, legs spread. "Don't worry," he breathed, when the cannon lowered against his cockpit and began to vibrate. "I'll help you clean it afterwards."

Megatron emitted a long suffering sigh, and dragged the weapon down his mate's armour until the seeker beneath him was moaning.

 

 

 


End file.
